Wylde Magic | Book 3

Thirty One: A City In Mourning

The gates of Thanantholl came into view, and so did a large commotion of guards. 

Commands were being shouted, weapons and blockades moved in place. It was an absolute scramble of activity until they noticed the giant black dragon walking down the road.

And then it was panic.

More shouting, arms flying, fingers pointing, and commanding officers located.

'Do you think Eberon forgot to tell them of my presence?' Spaulder asked.

"No," Schula said. "I doubt he forgot. My guess is that you weren't as aptly described as you could have been. That, or they did not believe you were a literal dragon when he told them."

Spaulder chuckled and fell into that purring rumble of content amusement. 

We paused a short distance from the gates, letting them sort their chaos out and watching for someone to approach. 

Finally, a slim-built brown fae with a hard face and sharp eyes approached. His uniform had extra decoration around the collar that tole me he may be of some kind of rank. Not that I had come to know the ranks well in my time in Thanantholl, but I still got that feeling from the way he carried himself. 

"Wylde Witch Wren." He nodded as he addressed me. "Lady Schula. Lord Eberon told us everything. Please bring your dragon through the gates quickly before any spies can see what we have on our side."

Spaulder, leaning his long neck down to see eye to eye with the fae, or at least as low to the ground as he could get his golden eyes, huffed air out of his nostrils and scattered leaves and dust into the air around the guard.

'I am no one's dragon, fae. You will do well to remember that.'

The guard paled. "Y-yes, lord dragon. Please, follow me. Accomodations have been made as well as we could under such short notice."

Spaudler eyed the guard one more time, huffing air again and discheveling his neat uniform before raising his head high again. 

'Very well. Lead on.'

I held a hand over my mouth, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. Glancing to Schula, she wasn't even trying to hide her amusement. 

"I suppose he will not make that mistake twice," Nassir mused.

If the guard heard Nassir's comment, he didn't react to it. Instead, we were brought through the front gates and past the chaos of whatever they were trying to do at the front of the city. Once inside, it became clear that Thanantholl was in mass mourning.

The vibrancy and bustle was all gone. Fae creatures of every breed were closed in their homes or openly grieving on the streets with their neighbors. Shops were closed. The life here, the trees and water and the creatures that lived here, all felt dulled and still. Even the vibrant leaves on the stunning treas were beginning to whither brown when it used to take several days off the branch and on the ground before they would crumble and turn.

"What happened to this place?" I whispered.

Schula reached out and took my hand, watching bleakly ahead as we followed the guard.

"Baeleon," she whispered.

My heart sank a little more. 

Spaulder's presence caused an array of reactions as we went. Alarm, mostly. But a lot of curiosity as well. Thankfully the streets of Thanantholl were plenty wide enough for a dragon of Spaulder's size to maneuver. 

At the end of a street that looked to be lined with buildings for manufacturing we reached a large empty yeard. Canvas had been stretched overhead to make a roof, and the line of targets and weapons racks cramed to one side of the field told us what kind of space this was typically used for. The surrounding smells of the area, tanning leathers, smoke from forges, sweat and kicked up dust, reminded me of the war camp we had just left days ago.